A Merry Christmas
by mikiiip
Summary: It looks like it's going to be a blue christmas for Spencer and Ashley, full of sacrifice and sadness. if they'd only look to one another, they might find just what they're looking for


Merry Christmas – A Spashley Oneshot

Hey guys! So I know it's been forever since I uploaded chapter 12 of Not Going Anywhere, and let me tell you, chapter 13 is in the works, but in the meantime I had this idea for a Christmas Oneshot. Completely different story that kind of just popped into my head. I hope you like it!

The scent of pine needles lingered as I inhaled the Christmas Eve air. Normally this smell would fill me with joy, immediately bringing a smile to my face. This smell usually meant time spent happily with my family, friends, and most important of all, Ashley. The aroma reminded me of this season, in which something indescribable usually filled us all: it was a crazy, inexplicable, and potent type of love – one that forgot all negative circumstances and just reveled in the company of one another.

This Christmas Eve, the scent filled me with nostalgia – a seemingly distant memory of this bliss, rather than the experience of truly feeling it. My heart twisted with longing; what I would give to have that feeling back, to be wrapped in her arms and know that my world was at peace. Unfortunately this wasn't the first Christmas Eve that the feeling was missing. The memory of last Christmas was splayed ever presently across the front of my mind. At the time, I thought to dismiss it – so what if we had a less-than-perfect Christmas? Whatever our problems were, we'd work them out over the next year. Little did I know, it was the start of a new chapter of our lives. A chapter that would find me here this Christmas, staring at a skewed version of myself in a glass ball ornament, a tear trickling down my cheek.

"I can't believe the guitar is gone" I heard her mumble from the kitchen. "Raife Davies's guitar. Sold by his own daughter." I sighed.

"I told you not to sell it." I replied, wiping the tear from my face and sniffing.

"What did you want me to do, Spencer? We need the money. There's a little something called rent."

"We would have found another way" The words flowed through my lips effortlessly, as if they had been memorized from saying this very thing many times over. I had. "There's always another way."

"Jesus Christ, Spencer, be realistic for a second, will you?" She turned and stared at me incredulously. I waited a few moments before speaking.

"Well that's not sacrilegious or anything. On Christmas Eve, no less." I knew it was lame that the only thing I responded to was her use of 'Jesus Christ', but I really wasn't in the mood to have this conversation again. There was a long pause.

"I just never thought it would be purchased a day after I put it on EBay. I just thought I had more time." She nearly whispered. My heart cried for her – I knew how hard this was. Her father meant so much to her, and I couldn't bear to imagine the magnitude of her desperation if she felt the need to sell one of his last belongings. I knew a similar longing. My hand reached slowly for my neck, and I fingered the spot where my grandmother's diamond encrusted locket had once been. We both had made sacrifices. Her voice switched tones, now to one of slight annoyance, "What time should I tell your parents to come over tomorrow?"

"I don't know, what time do you think?" I turned from the tree and watched her figure, her back facing me.

"I don't care, Spencer, just decide." Her voice was cold. I wondered if she knew how sharp the edges on her words were; how much they hurt me when she spoke like this.

"Ashley, they don't have to come over if it's such a burden" I replied, my voice sounding utterly defeated. I made a mental note to pump some life into it.

"See, now because you've phrased it like that, I'd be the bitch if I were to uninvite them" She spat.

"I'd say that uninviting somebody is a pretty bitchy thing to do regardless" I said under my breath, though fully knowing that she could hear my words bouncing in echoes off of these empty apartment walls.

"Spencer, we just don't have the room anymore. This isn't our LA flat, if you haven't noticed"

"You won't let me forget it." I said, trying to hide how much I hated having this discussion. After having it about 100 times, I'd gone through arguing angrily, sadly, back to angrily, to uncaring, and now we were back to sad. She didn't respond to this. I couldn't take this silence. "Besides, it doesn't matter. They honestly don't care about where we live, they just want to spend some time with us. I mean they came all the way to New York, we could at least feed them."

"It's not like they came all this way just for us – Glen is in NY too. I'm sure he's got much more room in his condo." She whined.

"They're spending all of this week in his condo. All they want is one dinner with us. Come on, Ash, what are we going to do anyway? Sit around and watch TV? Sit in silence like we always do? Forgive me if I want a little bit of human contact on Christmas." I turned away from her now, feeling more tears flowing over my eyelids.

I heard her footsteps coming closer across the cheap carpeting, but she stopped a few feet from me. We stood there in a perfect stillness for a while. Seconds became minutes, and three tears became twenty. The outward sob count remained at zero, though – I was not going to give up how much this was hurting me. This night didn't need anything to make it worse. A chill rolled up my spine. I felt so very alone, despite the fact that Ashley's breathing presence was just feet from me. Her own scent mixed with that of the pine needles, and my emotions raged in conflict once more.

"Forget it. I'll call them and tell them not to come." I said finally, breaking the silence between us.

"Spencer, don't - " She began, but I interrupted her, deciding not to let her argue a case she didn't actually want to win.

"Forget it, Ashley. Besides, we'll save money not having to buy food to feed them – since you're so obsessed with money." I said, my words dripping in sarcasm.

"You know that wasn't the issue, I - " She argued.

"Calling!" I said, holding my phone to my ear. I had already pressed the #3 speed dial. I decided to call my dad, he wouldn't argue. As the phone rang, I turned and walked out of the room, still not looking at Ashley. She was silent. I don't know if it was because she truly didn't want my parents over that much, or if she just didn't know what to say. By the time my dad picked up I was sitting on our bed.

"Hello?" I took a breath.

"Hey, Dad, it's me, Spencer." I exhaled. I began concocting a lie in my head.

"Hey Spence, what's up? It's almost Christmas! What are you even doing up? Santa's not going to come if you're awake!" He jested. A weak smile came across my lips.

"Well Dad, I'm not sure that Santa's going to want to come into this apartment – it's pretty contagious in here." I replied, priding myself on my quick lie. Sickness – it truly never failed as an excuse.

"Uh oh, who's dying?" My dad replied, still slightly joking but I could hear the concern in his voice.

"It's Ashley. She's been coughing for the last few days, and today she could barely get out of bed – bad headaches and fevers that are off the charts. We think it's the Swine Flu. We waited to call you guys just in case it took a turn for the better, but it's only spiraled down." Good thing I googled the Swine Flu symptoms, I thought. I heard my mom in the distance muttering something like 'Who's that?'.

"It's Spencer, Ashley's sick." He answered her. "Spence, that sounds horrible. Do you want us to bring anything over?" He asked.

"No, no, I think we're okay. Besides, I wouldn't want to risk infecting you guys."

"Are you sure? I feel awful, it's Christmas - " He pleaded. I hated lying to him, but I knew that this was probably better than struggling through Christmas with a miserable Ashley.

"Seriously, Dad, we're fine. The only problem is the dinner tomorrow night. Could we reschedule for sometime this week? I know it won't be Christmas dinner but it will be something"

"Absolutely. You just let us know when." He concluded.

"Thanks, Dad. Alright, I guess I should be going." I said quietly.

"Heck yes you should! Santa will be there any minute!" If it makes sense, I could hear him smiling, so I couldn't help but smile myself.

"Okay, Dad" I laughed. "Goodnight. And Merry Christmas"

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart. Your mom says so too." I heard my mom chiming in the background. "Bye"

"Bye" I said finally, then closed my phone. I shut my eyes and let myself fall onto my back, my arms draped across my stomach. I felt another tear slide down my temple.

How did we get here? I was sure this would never happen to us. Money or no money, I thought we'd always be happy if we were together. When Ashley's trust fund turned out to be next to nothing, I mean sure, I was upset and scared, but I knew that life would go on. I figured that we could both get jobs and live on a little less than we were used to. I could live with that, as long as I had her. Unfortunately, when we lost the trust fund, I lost her too. Everything became about the money, or lack thereof, and she was obsessed. She hadn't lived a day in her life without financial security, and let me tell you, it didn't reveal her best colors. We couldn't afford our LA flat anymore, so I transferred to NYU and we moved to New York when Glen did, convinced that life would be cheaper there. Glen was now playing for the Knicks, and living the high life, while we just got by in our crappy apartment. It was okay though, we were surviving – I attended school while Ashley tried to make her music career happen. This had been going on for a year, and it was as if we were inert: we were moving our legs as fast as we could, running at a breakneck speed, but we were getting nowhere.

Last Christmas was spent in the company of unpacked boxes. We had just moved, and we tried to make the best of the holidays within these hollow walls. We didn't have many things, but we had each other. Despite her discontentment, I still felt her with me, and that was all the consolation I needed. Now though, I couldn't even say that. She felt so distant now; when she looked at me it was as if she was looking very far away, her focus hidden beneath an apologetic shroud. I wish she just knew that I didn't care about all of this. I cared about her, and what hurt was seeing her like this.

I found my way under the blankets, and nestled myself in their warmth, only now realizing how cold the apartment was. I shivered quickly, and then closed my eyes, allowing myself to drift off into a restless half sleep.

I don't know how much time had elapsed, but at some point during the night I heard the door creak open, and a sliver of light fell across the floor. I peeked my eyes open ever so slightly and watched the figure of Ashley move towards the bed. She was at her side when she stopped suddenly and stood for a moment. She sniffed quietly – she had been crying. She then turned and walked around to my side of the bed, stopping right in front of me. I closed my eyes again as she hovered there for a few moments, her breath coming slowly. Her hand gently reached down and pushed my hair out of my face, stroking her thumb gingerly along my cheekbone. Then she bent down so that I could feel her breath; I could smell the magnolia scent that clung to her brown curls. Her lips met the top of my head and lingered there for a moment.

"Merry Christmas, Spence" She whispered. It was so quiet that I could barely hear it. I felt warm for a moment, this being the closest I'd felt to her in a long time. She then slowly got up and went back to her side of the bed, sliding under the blankets on the very edge of her side. I felt the mattress sink beneath her weight, and listened only to the sound of her breath as stillness set in around us. It was unbelievably quiet – even the usual New York City sound of car horns blaring was absent. If my heart wasn't falling apart, I would have attributed this to the magic of Christmas.

Soon her short breaths became rhythmical and quiet, and I knew she was asleep.

"Merry Christmas, Ash" I exhaled. Finally allowing myself to drift off into a somewhat peaceful sleep, I said a silent prayer. To whatever God or higher divine power it may concern, all I wanted for Christmas was Ashley. My Ashley. The one who laughed, who smiled, and who loved. As I sank from consciousness, I was lulled by the distant smell of pine needles.

My eyes opened slowly the next morning, startled by the brightness of the room. Everything seemed light, and there were stacks of snow in each corner of the window. The bottom was glazed over with frost, and my insides fluttered for a moment at the notion that we had a white Christmas. I turned over to face Ashley, only to find a mess of twisted sheets where she had been. The clock on her nightstand read 10:04. Wow, I'd slept late. I shimmied my way out of the sheets and felt the cold air rush to touch all of my exposed skin – it was truly freezing in this apartment. I grabbed my NYU sweatshirt from the floor and wrestled it over my head, leaving my bottom half in just underwear. Deciding that I had layers enough, I made for the door. As soon as I had crossed the threshold, the smell of bacon hit me. Bacon? And… was that eggs? I took a few more steps, my cold feet brushing against the carpet. I guess Ashley must have heard it.

"Spencer? Is that you up?" She turned and looked at me for a moment: in one of her hands was a spatula, in her other was a pan, and she had splatters of some unidentified substance across her tee shirt. She was a mess. "Oh thank God. Do I even have to explain? You know what me trying to cook is like." I made my way for the stove and gently pried the pan and spatula from her hands, then began scrambling the eggs instead of letting them burn as she had been doing. "Good thing we've got a Carlin in the house." She mumbled. "Oh, and Merry Christmas" She came up behind me and planted a kiss on my cheek. Her voice was tired, but it was clear that she was trying. I appreciated the effort. I couldn't put my finger on what it was, but something was different about her today.

"Merry Christmas" I replied, smiling weakly, simultaneously scrambling the eggs. "Why'd you get up and make breakfast? You know I would have done it."

"Well, after having been a roaring bitch last night, I think I owed it to you." She smiled apologetically. I wished so badly that she understood. That she could know that this single parental dinner issue wasn't the problem.

"It's not a big deal" I replied nonchalantly. I finished making the breakfast in silence, while Ashley sat at the table and watched me. I knew that her mind must be working – for she was never this quiet otherwise.

"Well, that wasn't the only reason I got up." I heard her say, as she rose. She began filling her plate with food, while I stared at her, awaiting an explanation.

"Well?" I asked, growing impatient.

"I had to go out and pick up your present." She smiled quickly, looking down at her plate. Her eyes flicked up to mine, and seeing their questioning gaze, she continued, "Don't worry, I abode by our one gift rule." Given that money was tight, Ashley and I made a one gift rule. I never cared too much for gifts anyway, so that was fine with me. I continued to stare at her as she took her seat opposite me. Her hair hung messily around her bronzed face – yes, even in New York Ashley was tan. Her eyes stuck to her plate, peeking out from over darkened circles. Even now, she looked beautiful; obscenely worn down and shoveling eggs in her mouth. She caught me still staring at her. "What, you want it now?"

"Sure" I replied, shrugging my shoulders. A beaming smile rippled across her face, and it was like a breath of fresh air to me. I hadn't seen her smile like that in ages. Her dimples almost seemed exaggerated, as if relieved to be in use once again. Whatever crappy and cheap gift this might be, I didn't care. The image of that smile would stay with me for a while.

She darted from the room, her untidy brown curls bouncing happily after her. She returned moments later, a wrapped box sitting in her palms with a cheesy ribbon bow on top. She set it down before me, and sunk to the floor, cross-legged at my feet. Yet another silly smile played at her lips, and I couldn't help but return it. This really was a gift enough. I looked at her questioningly and laughed softly.

"Open it!" She cried, her voice resembling the whine of an overexcited child. She was nearly bouncing. I looked down and began pulling the wrapping paper neatly off of the box. I knew it drove her crazy, the way that I refused to rip the paper in the heat of the moment. "Oh just do it already!"

As soon as the lid was off the box, my hand flew to my mouth as I gasped and my breath caught. I sat there in a type of stupor for a second, looking from the box, to an excited Ashley, back to the box. My hand reached in, and gently lifted what was inside. I watched as the iridescent rays of morning light bounced off of each little diamond that coated the surface of the heart. It sparkled gloriously in various rainbow hues, becoming a blur behind a thin sheet of tears that I could feel welling in my eyes. My mouth gaped slightly as I watched my little heart twist and twinkle.

"Ashley, I - "

"Open it." She said quietly. My fingers ever so gingerly popped the locket open, and inside there was a tiny new picture of my Ashley, flashing a winning smile. "This way, even when I'm being difficult, you'll have me close to your heart." She said while my eyes were still locked on the locket.

"Ashley!" I exclaimed excitedly. "How on earth did you - "

"I've been putting small payments on it for ages. Ever since you hocked it, actually. I put the final payment down this morning, using a chunk of my guitar earnings." She had barely finished the word when I enveloped her in a suffocating embrace. My arms wrapped tightly around her neck and I squeezed her so hard that I thought for a moment I might have killed her, until her arms wrapped around my back and squeezed with the same intensity.

"Thank you so much, Ash." I whispered into her ear. My hands found their way into her hair, and I moved my face to hers. Our lips pressed together, and I had taken her lower lip in mine when suddenly I pulled away. I felt my face grow serious. "I thought that money was for rent. What are we going to do about the rent?" I regretted the words the instant they'd escaped my lips. Leave it to me to wreck the moment with finance talk. Her eyes darted between each of mine, and a small smirk grew larger by the moment. Her head began to shake from side to side.

"I don't care." She said. If anyone has ever said that indifference to money was not a legitimate aphrodisiac, they were so wrong. A flame of passion ignited within me, and our lips crashed together once more. She was now climbing from her kneeling position on the floor, and came to straddle me on my chair. Our bodies pressed up against one another, and for the first time in a long time, we felt as one. It was a feeling I had missed more than I allowed myself to acknowledge – it was a relief, as if I'd been holding my breath. One of her hands was wound into my gold locks, the other was running up and down my side. The scent of magnolias overwhelmed my senses, enveloping me in a surreal bliss. This was all too much.

"Wait" I breathed as our mouths parted unwillingly.

"For what?" She whimpered. "Don't worry, I won't actually give you Swine Flu." She laughed, her mouth diving for mine. I turned my face away reluctantly.

"No, really." I paused. "Don't you want your gift?"

"Ugh" She moaned.

"Don't sound so enthusiastic" I laughed sarcastically. "Okay seriously. You gave me mine, and now it's your turn." She nodded grudgingly and peeled herself away from me, seating herself cross-legged once again on the floor. I stood up and began to walk to the closet. I turned to her before opening the door. "Close your eyes" I smiled. She rolled her eyes and then shut them. I watched the smile linger on her face, and I honestly felt like the richest girl in the city.

I pulled her gift very tenderly from the closet and walked over so that I was standing just in front of her. "Oh, and before you open your eyes, forgive me for not really wrapping it – I was kind of at a loss as to how." She smiled a little wider beneath closed eyes. I laid it across her arms, and took a step back so that I could watch her reaction.

When the guitar made contact with her arms, her eyes flew open, and for a moment I thought time had stopped. All was completely still, and her eyes maintained the very same astounded glaze. After a few seconds though, she burst into tears and leapt from the floor. One of her arms wrapped around my shoulders and the other tightly gripped the neck of the guitar. She pressed her face into my shoulder, and I felt the warm tears soak through my sweatshirt onto my skin. She heaved into me for a few minutes, and I knew at once that this wasn't just about her gift, but about us. About what we had endured this last year. She cried for how desperate we were, how much we pushed each other away. I don't think she had really noticed how distant we really were until now, when she was pressed right up against me – her heart nearly brushing my own. I pressed my face into her hair and inhaled the magnolia, closing my eyes.

"Spencer, how did you… how could you… Spence…" She muttered somewhat coherently when the sobs had subsided.

"I'd been saving up for a while." I said quietly. "I couldn't let you lose it." I said finally.

"Spencer, I… Thank you." She pulled away and looked me in the eyes. I brushed a stray hair out of her face before she turned to lay the guitar down. When she turned back around her mouth was open, words seemingly on her tongue. She paused.

"Spencer?"

"Yeah?"

"I missed you." And with that, she took a step and leapt into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist. I staggered backward but regained my balance, finally allowing my lips to move with hers in a way that was so familiar but seemingly so long absent.

"I missed you too." I exhaled in a moment where our mouths were not connected. "Want to go back to bed?" I asked, panting a bit.

"Wait" She pulled herself away this time, her full weight still hanging in my arms.

"My God, what now?" I asked, not even trying to hide the aggravation from my voice.

"What about breakfast?" Both of our eyes flicked back to the table where our plates sat, nearly untouched.

"I don't care" We kissed again for a few moments before she pulled herself away again.

"Spencer?" She panted.

"Yeah?"

"I love you." She said suddenly. Sincerity rang in her words like the chiming of a bell.

"I love you too, Ash." I replied hastily, desperate to make our way to the bedroom.

"Spencer?" God I loved this girl, but she needed to stop talking.

"Yeah?"

"Merry Christmas."

"You too, Ash."

I somehow made it to the bedroom, stumbling with Ashley in my arms and we fell onto the bed blissfully. Nothing was going to stop us now. My old Ashley had made her return, and though it happened quickly, I could tell she was here to stay. I said a silent thank you to whatever God or higher divine power exists – my prayer was answered. I let myself sink further and further into this Christmas miracle, inhaling the aroma of magnolia mixed with pine needles. It no longer filled me with nostalgia. I felt that crazy, inexplicable, potent type love. All of our negative circumstances just dissipated into the winter air as we reveled in the company of one another.


End file.
